A Brave New World
by MLaw
Summary: Facing a shortage of trained field agents, Alexander Waverly acts upon an innovative suggestion. Originally posted on Live Journal for the MFU 50th Anniversary celebration. pre-saga


**Challenge : **Mood-Y for the MFU 50th Anniversary.  
**The prompt: '**Inventive'  
**Title: "**A brave new world "  
**Author: **mlaw  
**Genre: **Gen  
**Word count: **Approx. 3000  
**Warnings**: none

"_**The world we want to transform has already been worked on by history and is largely hollow. We must nevertheless be inventive enough to change it and build a new world." **__~Subcomandante Marcos: Le Monde Diplomatique_

_._

Alexander Waverly stood by one of the windows in his office, his figure silhouetted against the light as he surveyed the traffic below, but still letting his gaze shift to the skyline and the United Nations building. His thoughts drifted there...

A grand idea, a lofty one indeed it was, as was U.N.C.L.E. but now he was suddenly having doubts. He'd lost too many agents as of late and was beginning to feel as though they were losing not only the battle but the war as well.

The evil in the world beyond T.H.R.U.S.H. was becoming more complicated than he could have possibly imagined.

The Federation of Rhodesia &amp; Nyasaland had dissolved, Anti-U.S. rioting broke out in Panama Canal Zone, there were battles between Muslims &amp; Hindus in Calcutta.

Panama had severed diplomatic relations with the United States...and on top of that there was a report out from the U.S. Surgeon General suggesting that smoking may be hazardous to one's health!

He paused for a moment, picking up his pipe, momentarily contemplating not lighting it up. Alexander put it down with a sigh.

There was a report of a military coup by Gen Nguyen Khanh in South Vietnam. The Australian destroyer HMAS Voyager was sunk after colliding with aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne, killing 82 people. A U.S. reconnaissance plane had been shot down over East Germany...Turkey had threatened Cyprus with armed attack.

Waverly looked at his calendar noting the date...March 15th.

"Beware the ides of March," he mumbled to himself.

So much had happened in only the first two and a half months of 1964; he could just imagine what the rest of the year held in store for them. At this rate things did not bode well. The question Alexander asked himself...would the Command be up to the task? At the moment they weren't, that was just in the here in and now, but what of the future?

They were desperately short on field agents in the Northwest region of U.N.C.L.E. and given the world situation, agents from other territories couldn't be spared. Section III just didn't have enough personnel.

Even Solo and Kuryakin, his number one team, were laid up in medical, as was Mark Slate. April Dancer was multi-tasking, having gone home to take care of funeral arrangements for her father and to man the field office in that area. Most of the staff there had been knocked out of action by a potent flu virus; thankfully it was nothing of an ominous nature.

The Old Man started absent-mindedly drumming his fingers on his communications console when the office doors silently opened and in walked his assistant Lisa Rogers.

In her hand was a silver tray an porcelain tea service with a rather tranquil Japanese motif...one that Waverly's wife Estelle had purchased on her trip to that country and had sent in for him to use for special occasions. There were plates for the the digestive biscuits that accompanied it all.

.

"Tea sir? To be precise...Passion flower, for calming," she smiled at him.

"My dear you seem to have an uncanny ability to sense these things," he sighed as she placed a cup and saucer in front of him.

The blonde poured a cup of tea for herself as well and before sitting in the chair beside him; Lisa reached around and removed her Special from the holster clipped behind her back and carefully laid it down on the conference table, making it more comfortable.

Waverly sipped his tea, seemingly lost in thought.

She had a special relationship with her boss, perhaps more than anyone else at headquarters and had no qualms about speaking her mind. Her sixth sense told her the situation was one that wouldn't be made better by some tea and sympathy.

"What's wrong sir?"

"We are in a bit of dilemma my dear and I'm not sure how to get out of it."

"Sir, are you referring the high losses we've suffered recently?"

"Precisely," he sighed."We simply don't have enough agents available to do what needs to be done. T.H.R.U.S.H. has been running rampant, not to mention all the other insanity that's been happening the world over. I am afraid we have been reduced to, well...near redundancy." He reached for a biscuit, but changed his mind with a sigh.

Lisa had never heard her boss speak like this before, even when facing the most dastardly of plots he maintained his classic British stiff upper lip and an air of confidence.

"No sir, I beg to differ. U.N.C.L.E. will ever be useless. Wherever there's evil, we'll be there to fight the good fight and do our best to win, no matter the cost."

"That Miss Rogers is why I'm afraid we're in the position we're in. At what cost has this organization continued under such beleifs."

"What about the next class at Survival school, surely then can help?"

"They've just started their training. No, that would be like sending sheep to the slaughter; they're too green. I cannot do that to good men and women...it's bad enough I have to send seasoned agents off to their possible deaths."

"Mr. Waverly there's a number of us here who trained at Survival School...myself included, but opted not to go into the field. Some just need a quick refresher and go over some of the gadgets and so forth, and there you do have more agents than you think you do."

Alexander Waverly looked up at her with a smile as he cocked a bushy eyebrow.

"You know dear girl, that just might work. Get me a roster of all personnel who graduated Survival Island within the last two years, regardless of their Section."

"Yes sir," Lisa grinned as she rose, preparing to gather up the dishes."Does that mean I'm excluded? I know I graduated Survival School three years ago, but I've kept up with being weapons certified and all updates in policy and procedure, as you know…"

He paused for a moment, looking at her fussing with the tea service.

'No Miss Rogers, send one of the secretaries in to take care of that...you are after all, as of this moment, an official field agent."

"Thank you Mr. Waverly. I won't let you down." Her voice had just a hint of excitement in it as she picked the tray anyway. It was after all one of her duties until she ceased be his right hand girl..

"I dare say you won't young lady." He smiled and watched as she squared her shoulders, exiting the conference room with an air of confidence. Just the idea of her being in the field, of helping beyond her usual function as his assistant...that was a powerful weapon indeed.

"This just might work old boy," he said to himself as he filled his pipe with tobacco...the Surgeon General's report be damned.

He felt a sense of pride knowing he had inventive people like Lisa Rogers to take up standard of U.N.C.L.E.

Waverly flicked a toggle switch on his communications panel and after adjusting the volume dial he picked up his microphone.

"Get me Dr. Greene in Medical please."

"Right away sir." The connection was made quickly.

"Yes Mr. Waverly, Greene here."

"Doctor how long before Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin are mobile."

"Tomorrow sir, but only for light duty, they're not ready for the field yet."

"And Mr. Slate?"

"No sir, he's not ready for discharge for at least another week, same scenario with light duty at best."

"Very well, that will do fine. I have a little training program I will need them to supervise."

"As long as it's in-house sir, that'll be fine."

"Thank you Doctor. That's just what I needed to hear. Waverly out."

Two days later Illya Kuryakin limped into the gun range located in the basement of headquarters. Lined up in front of him were a dozen people...among them Lisa Rogers, Mimi Montalban from Section 7, several female members of Communications and Security, the rest were men from the Intelligence division and Security sections, with the exception of one fellow...a rather mousy man named Leonard Miller from Research and Development.

This week the group had all been through refresher courses in everything they'd learned previously during their Survival School training. They were crash courses, essentially, but time was of the essence. Their marksmanship qualifications would be their final test.

Kuryakin refrained from shaking his head and giving away what he thought of this unusually creative approach Mr. Waverly had decided upon at filling the ranks of Section two.

Lisa stepped up to him, knowing Illya better than the others with the exception of the Security personnel perhaps, she leaned forward, whispering in his ear.

"I swear if you roll your eyes or make one sarcastic remark I will make you suffer for the rest of your life."

"Me, why I would never do such a thing..._Agent_ Rogers," he smiled at her. "Has a nice ring to it does it not?"

"Yeah it does," she relaxed just a little."

"I have no doubt in your ability and those of the Security people...but Lisa the others, I am not so sure about," he whispered back to her.

"Well there's nothing to do but line us up and get everyone started at being recertified and you can look over their files for a few minutes. They've done fairly well in the classes, even though most of them are a little nervous about all this. Maybe you could just say something encouraging first?"

He shrugged, definitely refraining from rolling his eyes as Lisa's threat was, he deemed, a credible one."

Illya cleared his throat, gaining everyone's full attention.

"It is my understanding that you all need to be brought up to...snuff with your shooting skills. Today we will endeavor to do exactly that.

He glanced at Lisa who was waving her fingers, urging him to say more.

"I know this is a tense situation for you being called to the forefront so to speak, and I offer you a quote from Emily Dickinson…

'_They might not need me; but they might. I will let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.'_

"What does that mean Mr. Kuryakin?" Mimi Montalban raised her hand like a schoolgirl.

"You may think that you have nothing to offer, but even the smallest effort...like that smile, can be most effective. It means you can make a difference. You are all here because you passed your training at Survival Island within the last two years and now the Command has need of you in a different capacity to which you are accustomed."

"You are all aware that recently we have lost too many of our field agents. Mr. Waverly would like you to be assessed to see if you can fill those agent positions, perhaps temporarily, until we have the next graduating class from Survival School become available."

"But Illya," said Gerry from Security," if fully trained and seasoned Section II agents haven't been able to make it, what makes Mr. Waverly think we can do the job?"

"Faith," Lisa Rogers stepped forward. "He believes in the training you've received and your abilities to function in the field. It's my understanding that we'll not be given the heavy duty assignments such as the ones Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Solo receive. We'll basically be the backup team."

"Yes you will," Napoleon Solo appeared through the doorway, slowly making his way towards them on his crutches.

"We all started out as greenhorns but that's not what you are, you're better than that. You've been working at headquarters, dealing day in and say out with sensitive material, tense situations and you are fully aware what goes on and how things are handled out there. Think of it this way, now you get to shoot some bad guys with those guns you've carried on your person for the last two years."

"Things change," Lisa interjected, "and we need to adapt and change as well."

"Now, would everyone take their places at the carousels."Illya smiled," Let us see how you do with those Specials of yours."

He signalled to the range officer in the control room. Once everyone's ear protection was in place the okay was given and firing commenced.

The targets were retrieved and another round began again. The process was repeated several times, during which both Illya and Napoleon gave pointers, helping with stance and aiming.

At the end of the session, the targets were examined, and the two top shots were Miss Rogers and of all people, Leonard Miller…

The others weren't that far behind them in accuracy.

"Impressive," Napoleon winked at Lisa. "How about we celebrate over dinner….no strings attached?"

"No strings?"

"Scouts honor," Napoleon flashed his gorgeous smile at her, he struggled to make the sign with his hands while still balancing on the crutches.

"Why is it everytime you say that, I feel like you're just lying through your teeth?" Lisa returned his smile.

"Moi? Lisa, you're breaking my heart."

"Yeah right," she laughed."I think you're the heartbreaker Napoleon Solo."

"So I take it that's a no."

"Correct."

"Lisa my darling, I will always think of you as the one that got away." Napoleon reached out, and taking her hand, he kissed it.

This time Illya, watching the whole scene, did finally roll his eyes...

.

A week later the retraining and evaluations were complete, leaving Solo and Kuryakin to make their final report to Mr. Waverly.

He sat at his communications cubbie, reading the results.

"The devil you say?" The Old Man looked again at in the folder he held in his hand.

"I know sir, surprising. Their scores surpassed those from when they were at Survival School," Illya smiled as he carefully lowered himself to one of the chairs at the conference table.

"Napoleon, still on crutches, did the same."Perhaps a sign of maturity and familiarity? They were babes in the woods two years ago, but now after having experienced working here at headquarters, they have an understanding and comfort level they didn't possess before."

Waverly nodded, rubbing his chin in thought before responding.

"Very well then Mr. Solo, I will leave it up to you as to the disbursement of assignments. Start them out with courier missions, and pair them with Section III agents until they gain their footing as it were. Then we will see about partnering them with our remaining Section II agents. Better to have someone with experience with them at the start. Perhaps it may end up in some permanent pairings."

"Sir?" Napoleon looked at him questioningly. It was Waverly who called the shots when it came to assignments.

"It's time for you to step up to the plate young man. Let's see your how your inventiveness fares as my new CEA...and you Mr. Kuryakin will be his second."

Both men raised their eyebrows in surprise, casting a glance at each other.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence sir. I know I speak for Mr. Kuryakin as well," Solo nodded to his partner.

"Yes, ahem quite," Waverly cleared his throat."Very well, now off with you both and thank you gentlemen for your crash course program. It was most impressive."

"It was a rather inspired idea sir,"Napoleon said.

"Not mine Mr. Solo, but Miss Rogers. Quite a resourceful young woman to say the least."

"Agreed,"Napoleon smiled. His thoughts drifted to his many attempts to take her out, but she never gave in. "She is quite remarkable sir."

The two men hobbled and limped out into the the grey corridor, side by side, passing the desk once occupied by Lisa Rogers. At the moment it was empty, as Mr. Waverly hadn't chosen her replacement.

"Lisa's words ring true do they not?" Illya asked.

"Which words are those?"

"Things change, we need to adapt and change as well...and to have faith."

Napoleon Solo paused, contemplating that statement before he replied.

"Indeed we do chum...it's a brave new world out there."


End file.
